


Tonight’s the Night, We’re Gonna Celebrate

by hestherewithme



Series: Collection of Random Crisscolfer Drabbles. [9]
Category: Glee, Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1870659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hestherewithme/pseuds/hestherewithme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was a collaboration with thejuryisout.tumblr.com. If you have a Tumblr, go follow her, she is awesome :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tonight’s the Night, We’re Gonna Celebrate

“Darren. Hurry up!” Chris said enthusiastically. “They’re showing the line-ups of the players.”

“Okay. Okay. Who ever imagined that  _you_  could ever get this excited about sports?”

 

“In my defense I have never seen a sport that makes men look this good while sweating.” Chris retorted. 

Darren raised his eyebrow, hoping to make an inappropriate comment about how much he knew about Chris’ obsession with sweat, but his boyfriend swatted him before he could open his mouth.

“Don’t even think about it Dare, I know exactly what was going through your head right now.”

“Oh. C’mon Chris. You practically handed that one to me.” Darren said, grinning cheekily. 

“Shut up.” he smiled back, “They’re about to start.”

“Alright. Alright. So do you want me to explain the rules to you again.”

“Goddamit Darren, you played  _one_  soccer match when you went to Italy all those years ago. One.”

“That’s blasphemy Christopher. Everyone knows it’s  _football._ Not soccer.”

“I knew that.” Chris said, folding his arms, knowing that the British part of him was probably very disappointed with what he had just said. 

“Uh huh. Sure you did.” Darren smirked, leaning over to give Chris a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He was adorable when he said something wrong. 

Twenty minutes into the first half, and not much had happened. Both wanted England to win, since Darren had bet on them, and Chris felt the weirdest sense of national pride when seeing that team win something. 

They believed they had done enough as fans. At least fans who were watching the match on a flatscreen T.V on their couch. They wore jerseys, and each had a flag painted on their face.

Each time a goal seemed likely, Darren would jump up from his seat and start yelling at the television, certain the players could here him down in South America. 

Chris was only enjoying this because of Darren. Honestly, he had been working hard on his book the past months, and Darren and him hadn’t gotten to spend that much time together.

Darren got so joyful, and ecstatic over a game, Chris could easily go through ninety minutes of a bunch of guys chasing after a ball, if it meant having celebratory sex whenever his team won. Or even if they didn’t, he would come sulking and looking for cuddles. Darren’s deep investment in a sport resulted in a wonderful evening for Chris, regardless of outcome. 

Of course, Chris noticed how Darren started spending a good ten minutes after each match ended with his eyes glued to the T.V screen. Turns out all those gorgeous men, would walk around shirtless once the match ended.  Honestly, how the hell did people think that Darren was straight?

Well, after that Chris decided he would join in while Darren was watching his next match. And here he was, supporting a team, who he didn’t know anything about.

Apparently the referee of the game had made a bad decision according to Darren, who made it clear how angry he was at that random man. The poor soul bore the brunt of Darren’s curses tonight.

“Fuck you reff. That wasn’t a foul. Look at that asshole, he’s faking it. HE BARELY TOUCHED HIM. GODDAMMIT.” he yelled in frustration. 

Chris would say something to calm him down, if he could stop giggling at Darren’s exasperation.  Hs stopped before Darren sat back down, and pretended to share his anger. 

Luckily the other team didn’t take advantage of the opportunity as Darren had feared, and they went into half-time with neither team in the lead. That was enough to satisfy Darren right now, but not improve his mood in any way. The English still had to win for Darren to make some earnings on his bet, so only the completion of the match would decide if Chris was getting laid, or just cuddling a dejected boyfriend. 

“So do their shirts come off now?” Chris said, attempting to make conversation with a surprisingly quiet Darren.

“No. That’s full-time.” he said. “Wait a second. Is that the only reason you’re watching this?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t watch these matches for that as well.”

“Not only that.” Darren confessed. “But what about you Christopher, are shirtless men the only thing appealing to you in football.”

“No.” he fibbed. “Unlike you I am very satisfied with the man I have right next to me.”

Darren feigned shock by dramatically gasping. “Christopher. You cannot think for a minute that those exquisite men, with their dashing looks and stunning bodies are any match for you.” Darren said, only half joking. He meant the last part, obviously. Nobody compared to Chris. 

Chris nudged him playfully, and then proceeded to pull him into a quick kiss before Darren got distracted with the players kicking the ball off for the next half. Who knew if he would get to do this tonight. 

_‘Oh please whatever soccer— I mean football—gods there are, let England win, so my boyfriend can please me tonight.’_ Chris prayed silently.

If Chris were wearing earplugs and not looking at the television, he would still be able to tell exactly how that match was going based solely on Darren’s physical reactions. He was so animated. So easily affected by a run or a pass. It was very entertaining. 

As little as he knew about this sport, Chris could tell the “0-0” on the top left corner of the screen meant that their wasn’t much excitement in the game. But Darren seemed even more on edge. As the time got closer and closer to ninety, Darren got more and more impatient, waiting for something, anything to happen. 

Darren kept on with a constant chant of “go, go, c’mon, go, go”, and Chris reached for the bowl of chips on the coffee table, hoping to salvage what was left. He dropped it when Darren let out an ear-deafening cheer, which most likely indicated something had happened. He looked up at the television screen in time to catch a replay of what was the  _‘most fucking amazing goal he had ever seen’_  as according to the man celebrating next to him. 

Well. The player seemed to run pretty fast, and just slammed the ball into the goal. In recored time it seemed, because a few minutes later the match ended. With England’s team running into the field and gathering into a circle, before bouncing in triumph.

Darren apparently thought he was part of the team as well, as if he had run around the length of the pitch, passing and scoring the goals. But Chris wasn’t going to stop him at all. Nope, this reaction was his second favorite part whenever Darren’s team won. What was coming next was his favorite. 

Darren all but threw himself at Chris - who was trying to clean the mess he made after dropping the handful of chips he had reached for - and proceeded to jump up and down on Chris’ lap, straddling him, screaming about having won the bet.

"Did you see it, Chris?" He asked, shaking Chris by the shoulders. "Wasn’t it amazing?!"

"It was, Dare." He shook his head, laughing. "The English part of me is more excited than you." Chris told him, faking an English accent.

"Do it again." Darren asked, stopping suddenly, looking at Chris with his eyes wide. "The accent, do it again."

"It was the most bloody amazing goal I’ve ever seen, mate." He did it again, mockingly. Darren didn’t find it funny though, if the look on his face was anything to go by. Chris was about to ask if something was wrong when Darren’s lips came crashing down on his, hard and without restraint. 

Although it took Chris by surprise, he was kissing back in a second. Darren’s hands were in his hair then, his short nails scratching his scalp, making him moan and reach for Darren’s golden skin underneath his baggy jersey shirt. He didn’t know what had gotten into Darren because this kiss was far from tame, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not at all.

Instead, his hands slipped inside Darren’s back pockets. Darren gasped at the feeling of Chris’ hands on him, the slight pressure he added making Darren arch into his touch.

Darren had started to lightly pull at his hair every time Chris swept his tongue against Darren’s and then sucked at it, drawing it into his own mouth. Chris squeezed Darren’s ass when he thrusted down and his tongue licked at the roof of Darren’s mouth, making him moan.

Darren let go of Chris’ hair, who then let out a grunt of dissatisfaction, but pushed his tongue deeper inside Darren’s mouth. Darren’s hands were now busy going down Chris’ back slowly, teasing, making him shiver, to then reach the hem and pull it off, breaking their kiss for a moment. His hand then ran down the smooth expanse of Chris’ naked chest towards his abs, slowly and attentively.

They were both breathless, Chris’ hair was sticking up and Darren’s curls were glued to his forehead. Darren’s lip ran down Chris’ face, kissing every inch of skin he could find, taking a very long time mapping his jaw and neck. After sucking at Chris’ neck thoroughly and marking his pale skin, Darren stood up on wobbly legs, taking Chris’ hand to pull him up as well, leading him to the bedroom. 

It turns out they missed seeing the players going about without their shirts on, but neither would ever complain.


End file.
